


let's be alone together

by catchingtheblues



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, Homophobia, Humanstuck, M/M, Second POV, anxious!dave, be suuuuper careful folks this could be triggering, bro being a piece of shit, not very graphic, violence kinda?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 00:23:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12947283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catchingtheblues/pseuds/catchingtheblues
Summary: Your name is Dave Strider and you thought that you could bring Karkat over and things would be okay. Bro isn't supposed to be home, but he's always liked to surprise you.





	let's be alone together

**Author's Note:**

> violence, not super graphic, and very frankly depicted child abuse, so be careful please.
> 
> i got the idea from the phrase "he's just a kid, you monster", and i have no idea where that came from but it hit me really hard.
> 
> this is my first homestuck fic, so here u go. my trash. trash that i actually like. good trash.
> 
> title from "alone together" by fall out boy!!

You bring Karkat home on a day when Bro’s supposed to be gone, because you’re not stupid. You wouldn’t put Karkat through that. But you’ve been Karkat’s friend for years, and now you’re his boyfriend. He’s always asking to go over, because his dad’s pretty crabby.

You’re nervous. You’re always nervous at home. But you think kissing Karkat in your room would be nice. Maybe on your bed. It’ll be soft and sweet, like it is every time you kiss Karkat.

“Are you ready to go yet, asshole?” Karkat asks, appearing beside you and pushing up on his toes to kiss your cheek. Your face heats up a little and you nod.

“Yeah, let’s go.” You start walking out of the school and you see pretty much every fucking person you know. Gamzee nods lazily, Terezi teases the two of you, Vriska makes a passive-aggressive comment. It’s the usual. Karkat swears at all of them and you just let him go off. Every step closer you get to home, your heart pounds faster. Can you really call it home thought?

Karkat frowns at you. He’s been talking and giving you plenty of time to reply, but you can’t speak much. It’ll be okay once you’re in your room. That’s the safest place in your ho--apartment. But is anywhere really safe from him?

“Are you okay?” He asks eventually, right when you get to the door to enter the building. You nod quickly, too quickly. He reaches out and touches your shoulder carefully. “I can leave.”

You’ve had panic attacks in front of him, because, well, you’ve had panic attacks in front of anybody you were around for more than an hour, and he’s trying to get a sign of what to do to help you calm down. You grab the door handle, take a deep breath.

“No, come on in. The elevator’s broken so we have to take the stairs up to the top.”

Karkat looks distraught, one hand on his soft stomach. “I’m gonna die.”

“I have apple juice upstairs,” you offer, and he rolls his eyes fondly.

“Of course you do. If you don’t have apple juice, I’ll be concerned. You wouldn’t be Dave Strider without apple juice. C’mon, up the goddamn stairs, I’m ready to have an asthma attack.” And he troops up the stairs, exaggerated wheezing turning into actual wheezing and pleads for the sweet release of death.

You make it up, one sweaty hand holding his, and you hold your breath when you open the door.

“Bro?” You call out.

“I thought you said he wasn’t gonna be home?” He knows that Bro is… not good. You don’t give him many details, and you’ve hidden all the cuts and bruises, but he knows.

 _Sometimes he likes to surprise me._ “Sometimes his schedule changes. C’mon.” You pull him in and kick the door shut, head straight for your room and close the door. You’re shaking, but you pull Karkat in and just _breathe_.

He squeaks when you move him but then he relaxes into it, presses his face into the crook of your neck. He’s so soft, so warm, and you exhale shakily.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs.

“Yeah. C’mere.” You take off your shades, push him back a little bit and tilt his chin up to kiss him. He makes a soft noise in the back of his throat and his lips part. You’d had to figure out making out together, because neither of you had ever kissed anyone before. Sweet sixteen and fumbling virgins.

(“Still a virgin, lil man? What a pussy. Strife, roof, now.”)

Karkat’s tongue slips into your mouth and you stop hearing his voice. You keep your mouths locked together, pull him with you while you move backwards to sit on your bed. He takes initiative, as he usually has to, because you’re too scared to do anything, and he pushes you further up and straddles you.

“Fuck,” you whisper, and he smiles, mouths at your neck.

(“Is that a hickey? Who are you kissing?”

“It’s not a hickey, it’s probably just a bruise.”

…

“No more hickies, my brother is… weird about it.”

Karkat just nodded, didn’t suspect a thing.)

You roll over and get him under you, grind down a little to hear him gasp. You’ve been together eight months now, you could, you’d like to, if he wants to. You’re about to ask when he palms at the front of your jeans and you whine.

Something grabs the back of your hoodie and yanks you back, right the fuck off the bed. Everything in your body goes cold and you look back at Karkat, whose cheeks are dark and lips are wet, eyes confused, and you don’t want him here. You don’t want him to see this.

“You’re gay,” Bro says, voice deadly calm.

Your mouth works but nothing comes out, and Karkat gets off the bed, standing at his short height of 5’2”.

“You wanna let him go?” Karkat says, an edge to his voice.

“Karkat,” you manage. “Just go, just go.” You need to get him out of here. Bro can do whatever he wants to you, as long as he doesn’t touch Karkat.

“Yeah, ya should go. Get the hell outta my house.”

Karkat looks at you and you don’t know what he sees in your face. You’re trying to keep your poker face, but you know you’re not managing it, eyes full of fear. God, you need your shades. He looks at Bro, and you don’t know what he sees there. Either there’s nothing, or there’s anger. Bro doesn’t ever look any other way.

He looks right up at Bro, and says, “Let him the fuck go, right now.”

Bro laughs and he fists his hand in your hair. “You gonna let the bitch talk to me that way?”

“Karkat,” you plead.

He looks from you to Bro again, then to his backpack on the floor. He picks it up and you sigh in relief, but then he’s swinging it hard at the back of Bro’s knees. And Karkat’s a packrat, his backpack is a good thirty pounds. He knows how to use it; he used to get bullied before you became friends.

Bro lets you go in shock, knees buckling, and Karkat shoves him down and grabs you, and he runs.

You get out of your room and the front door’s right there, but there’s Bro, flashstepping right in front of you both.

While you freeze up, Karkat dives at him. Bro grabs him around the throat and you see red. You punch Bro, right in the jaw, and Karkat knees him in the dick. You manage to throw him out of the way and you take Karkat and you hurry out of the apartment and down the stairs.

Bro doesn’t come after you. You can’t breathe, but you blame it on the stairs. And if you’re crying, well, it’s allergy season.

Karkat doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t let go of your hand.


End file.
